That shone fo brightly when this boy was got,
He dies upon my Scymitar's fharp point,
That touches this my firft-born fon and heir.
I tell you, Younglings, not Enceladus

With all his threatning band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the God of war,

Shall feize this prey out of his father's hands.
What, what, ye fanguine fhallow-hearted boys,
Ye white-lim'd walls, ye ale-houfe painted figns,
Coal-black is better than another hue:

In that it fcorns to bear another hue:
For all the water in the ocean

Can never turn the fwan's black legs to white,
Although the lave them hourly in the flood.
Tell the Empress from me, I am of age
To keep mine own; excuse it, how the can.
Dem. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
Aar. My mistress is my miftrefs; this, my felf;
The vigour and the picture of my youth.
This, before all the world do I prefer ;
This, maugre all the world, will I keep fafe;
Or fome of you fhall smoke for it in Rome.
Dem. By this our mother is for ever sham'd.
Chi. Rome will defpife her for this foul efcape.
Nur. The Emperor in his rage will doom her death.
Chi. I blush to think upon this ignominy.

Aar. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:
Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
The close enacts and counfels of the heart!
Here's a young lad fram'd of another leer,

Look, how the black flave fmiles upon the father;
As who should say, "Old lad, I am thine own.
He is your brother, lords; fenfibly fed

Of that felf-blood, that first gave life to you;
And from that womb, where you imprison'd were,
He is infranchifed and come to light:
Nay, he's your brother by the furer fide;
Although my feal is ftamped in his face.

Nur. Aaron, what shall I say unto the Emprefs?
Dem. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
Vo L. VI.

L

And

And we will all fubfcribe to thy advice:
Save you the child, fo we may be all fafe.
Aar. Then fit we down, and let us all confult.
My fon and I will have the wind of you:
Keep there now talk at pleasure of your fafety.
[They fit on the ground.

Dem. How many women faw this child of his?
Aar. Why, fo, brave lords; when we all join in league,
I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean fwells not fo as Aaron ftorms:
But fay again, how many faw the child?
Nur. Cornelia the midwife, and my self
And no one elfe but the deliver'd Emprefs.
Aar. The Emprefs, the midwife, and your felf-
'Two may keep counfel, when the third's

away:

Go to the Emprefs, tell her, this I faid— [He kills her.
Week, week! fo cries a pig, prepar'd to th' fpit.
Dem. What mean't thou, Aaron? wherefore didft
thou this?

Aar. O lord, Sir, 'tis a deed of policy :
Shall fhe live to betray this guilt of ours?
A long-tongu'd babling goffip? no, lords, no.
And now be it known to you my full intent :
Not far, one Muliteus lives, my country-man,
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed,
His child is like to her, fair as you are:

Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,
And tell them both the circumftance of all;
And how by this their child fhall be advanc'd,
And be received for the Emp'ror's heir,
And substituted in the place of mine,

To calm this tempeft whirling in the Court;
And let the Emperor dandle him for his own.

Hark ye, my lords, ye fee, I have given her phyfick;

And you must needs beftow her funeral ;

The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms:
This done, fee, that you take no longer days,
But fend the midwife prefently to me.

The midwife and the nurfe well made away,

Then

Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
Chi. Aaron, I fee, thou wilt not truft the air
With fecrets.

Dem. For this care of Tamora,

Her self and hers are highly bound to thee.

[Exeunt.

Aar. Now to the Goths, as fwift as Swallow flies,
There to difpofe this treasure in my arms,
And fecretly to greet the Emprefs' friends.
Come on, you thick-lip'd flave, I bear you hence,
For it is you that put us to our fhifts:

I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots,
And feed on curds and whey, and fuck the goat,
And cabin in a cave; and bring you up

To be a warrior, and command a camp.

SCENE, a Street near the Palace.

[Exit.

Enter Titus, old Marcus, young Lucius, and other Gentlemen with bows; and Titus bears the arrows with letters on the end of them.

Tit. Come, Marcus, come; kinfmen, this is the way. Sir boy, now let me fee your archery.

Look, ye

draw home enough, and 'tis there straight; Terras Aftraa reliquit-be you remember'd, Marcus. She's gone, fhe's fled

Sirs, take you to your tools;

You, coufins, fhall go found the ocean,

And caft your nets; haply, you may find her in the sea;

Yet there's as little juftice as at land

No, Publius and Sempronius; you must do it,

'Tis you muft dig with mattock and with spade, And pierce the inmoft centre of the earth: Then, when you come to Pluto's region,

I pray you, deliver this petition,

Tell him it is for juftice, and for aid ;
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with forrows in ungrateful Rome.

Ah, Rome! Well, well, I made thee miferable,
What time I threw the people's fuffrages
On him, that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.

L 2

Go,

Go, get you gone, and, pray, be careful all,
And leave you not a man of war unsearch'd;
This wicked Emperor may have ship'd her hence,
And, kinfmen, then we may go pipe for juftice.
Mar. Oh Publius, is not this a heavy cafe,
To fee thy noble uncle thus diftra&t ?

Pub. Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns,
By day and night t' attend him carefully :
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
'Till time beget fome careful remedy.

Mar. Kinfmen, his forrows are paft remedy.
Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.

Tit. Publius, how now? how now, my masters,
What, have you met with her?

Pub. No, my good lord, but Pluto fends you word, If you will have revenge from hell, you fhall: Marry, for juftice, fhe is fo employ'd,

He thinks, with Jove in heav'n, or fomewhere else; So that perforce you muft needs stay a time.

Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
I'll dive into the burning lake below,

And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
Marcus, we are but fhrubs, no cedars we,

No big-bon'd men, fram'd of the Cyclops" fize;
But metal, Marcus, fteel to th' very back ;

Yet wrung with wrongs, more than our backs can bear.
And fith there is no justice in earth nor hell,
We will follicit heav'n, and move the Gods,
To fend down justice for to wreak our wrongs:
Come, to this gear; you're a good archer, Marcus.

Ad Jovem, that's for you
Ad Martem, that's for
Here, boy, to Pallas

my

[He gives them the arrows. here, ad Apollinem

self;

here, to Mercury

To Saturn and to Cælus - not to Saturnine
You were as good to fhoot against the wind.

To it, boy; Marcus

loofe when I bid:

O' my word, I have written to effect,

There's

There's not a God left unfollicited.

Mar. Kinfmen, fhoot all your shafts into the Court, We will afflict the Emperor in his pride.

[They boot. Tit. Now, mafters, draw; oh, well faid, Lucius : Good boy, in Virgo's lap, give it Pallas.

Mar. My lord, I am a mile beyond the moon ; Your letter is with Jupiter by this.

Tit. Ha, ha, Publius, Publius, what haft thou done? See, fee, thou'ft fhot off one of Taurus' horns.

Mar. This was the fport, my lord; when Publius shot, The bull being gall'd, gave Aries fuch a knock, That down fell both the ram's horns in the Court, And who fhould find them but the Emprefs' villain : She laugh'd, and told the Moor, he should not chufe But give them to his mafter for a prefent.

Tit. Why, there it goes. God give your lordship joy!

Enter a Clown with a basket and two pigeons.

News, news from heav'n; Marcus, the poft is come.
Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters ?
Shall I have juftice, what fays Jupiter?

Clown. Who? the gibbet-maker? he fays, that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hang'd 'till the next week.

Tit. Tut, what fays Jupiter, I ask thee?
Clown. Alas, Sir, I know not Jupiter,
I never drank with him in all my life.
Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
Clown. Ay, of my pigeons, Sir, nothing else.
Tit. Why, didft thou not come from heav'n?

Clown. From heav'n? alas, Sir, I never came there. God forbid, I should be fo bold to prefs into heav'n in my young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperial's men.

Mar. Why, Sir, that is as fit as can be to ferve for your oration, and let him deliver the pigeons to the Emperor from you.